Someone's Watching
by lgb8313
Summary: Someone is stalking Greg. Can the team discover who it is and what he wants before he destroys Greg's life? Rated T for later chapters. I own none of the characters.
1. Chapter 1

** Someone's Watching**

Chapter 1

The engine roared to life as he turned the key in the ignition. Greg grimaced as he realized he had left his apartment without his cell phone. That ended his hope of arriving at the lab a little earlier than usual. It couldn't be avoided, he had to go back and retrieve it. He'd be like a fish out of water without his cell. As Greg opened the car door, he scooped up the mail he had taken from his mailbox on his way out of his apartment moments ago. He didn't have time to go through it, but he could at least place it on his counter for later. Greg wasn't normally careless with his mail, but he had been known to "misplace" importance correspondence when bringing it in after an especially rough shift.

He unplugged his phone from the charger and turned to head back out the door when he noticed an unusual envelope scattered along with the junk mail and his utility bill on the kitchen counter. Greg picked it up and gazed at the handwriting. It almost looked like it had been written by a child. "Huh," he thought, "no return address." He ripped it open and dumped the contents out in his palm. His breath stopped as his eye fell on what was inside. Work was the furthest thing from his mind as he slowly sat down at the table.

Russell wasn't really irritated, but it wasn't like Greg not to call in if he was running late or sick. He had already given out assignments for the other CSIs and was sitting down behind his desk to work on some overdue paperwork. He looked up just as Greg was coming through the open door to his office.

Glancing at his watch, Russell said, "Greg, two hours is more than a little late. You do realize I expect you to let me know when you're not going to be here at the beginning of your shift?"

"I've got to talk to you," Greg blurted, ignoring the question.

Russell eyed him for a moment. Greg's tensed expression and mannerisms told him something was undoubtedly troubling the young man. Nodding to one of the two chairs in front of his desk, he said, "Have a seat."

After being so anxious to talk to Russell moments before, Greg suddenly had trouble organizing his thoughts. His hands began to shake and his breath quickened. He glanced around the room as if mentally searching for anything to calm his racing mind. He found it difficult to the pull in enough air to satisfy to lungs.

Russell looked over his glasses to be sure his eyes weren't deceiving him. Greg appeared to be having a panic attack. "Greg? What's going on, talk to me."

With a trembling hand, Greg placed the envelope on the desk. "This came in the mail for me today."

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	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Russell shook his head in disbelief as he leafed through the photographs Greg had received. There were ten in all. Most of them close-ups, obviously taken with a wide angle telephoto lens. There were also disturbing ones taken with a night vision lens. They were all of Greg, cataloging his days and nights. Some were taken as Greg was entering his apartment, others of him emptying his trash, drinking coffee at the Starbucks near the lab with Nick and Morgan, and also ones of him processing a crime scene. Greg sat quietly, attempting to control his breathing, as Russell continued trying to wrap his head around what he was seeing. Finally he asked, "Do you have any kind of a timeline as to when these were taken?"

The question brought Greg's mind back to the present. "Within the last three days."

Russell shook his head as he placed the photos on his desk and picked up the folded note that had been tucked in between them. It read simply,

'**Keeping my eye on you. Don't make the mistake of showing these to anyone. I'll be in touch.'**

Sitting back in his chair, Russell offered some praise. "Well, I'm glad you didn't take the threat seriously and keep this to yourself.

"That's just it, I _did_ take it seriously! I want to know who this guy is and why he's stalking me!"

"So you have no idea who this could be?" Russell questioned.

Greg was beginning to get agitated. "Of course I have no idea! It's freaking me out!"

Trying to force Greg to concentrate, Russell noted, "You're assuming it's a man."

Greg hadn't considered what Russell was proposing. "What? You think it's a woman?"

"I don't see how we can rule it out. Have you rubbed any women the wrong way lately?"

Greg couldn't help the small laugh that escaped his lips. "No…no, of course not!" Greg was slightly offended. He threw up his hands and raised his voice. "What difference does it make? I don't want _anybody_ stalking me!"

Russell was silent, allowing Greg to process this new possibility. It only annoyed him further.

"What are you saying? You think if it's a woman, there's nothing to worry about?" Greg couldn't understand why Russell was having such a hard time understanding him.

Shaking his head and realizing Greg was too upset to consider what he was asking, Russell said, "No, Greg, I'm trying to help you assess your relationships with the women _and_ men in your personal life to see if anything seems suspicious. If it doesn't, then we have to assume this is work related."

With a heavy sigh, Greg sat back in his chair and rubbed his hands over his face. "Oh." It made complete sense to him now. He thought for a few seconds, "No, nothing comes to mind. I mean, I'm here most of the time. And honestly, when I'm not here, I'm usually trying to catch up on sleep. Uhh, I can't think of anything out of the ordinary at the gym…or anywhere." He shook his head and gave Russell a defeated look.

"Okay, then, let's get Morgan to pull the crowd photos of the last few scenes you processed. We'll see if anyone shows up at more than one scene…And I don't want you going out just yet. You stay and go over the crowd photos with Morgan."

A puzzled look came over Greg's face. "You're restricting me to the lab?"

"No, let's just say you've got more important things to do in here at the moment."

He wasn't totally convinced by Russell's explanation, but Greg decided to let it go for now. At least he would be doing something to get to the bottom of what was going on.

As Greg waited for Morgan to return from the evidence room, he played out different scenarios in his head. What if it was something personal? He was still friends with the last couple of girls he'd dated, and he'd never really had a bad breakup, so he believed the idea of the stalker being a woman was out of the question. He couldn't imagine any of his friends doing this to him for fun. They know the type of work he does and stalking is a very serious offense. Maybe that's it. They wanted to see if he's a good enough CSI to figure out that it was them. The guys from the gym had joked around about that occasionally. Actually, he wished now he had given the whole situation more thought before he turned it over to Russell. Maybe he could have straightened it out on his own. No, that didn't matter! If it was a joke, it was a very bad one. And, besides, it creeped him out knowing someone was watching everything he did. He suddenly was glad Russell had kept him in the lab. The threat was real and he wanted to get to the bottom of this as soon as possible.

Greg and Morgan had just completed going through all of the crowd photos of his last six crime scenes. They came up empty. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Greg was beginning to think they were grasping at straws.

"Well, what about the last couple of cases you worked that went to court?" Morgan asked.

Greg thought for a moment. "No, nothing unusual comes to mind. You know how it is. You report your evidence, answer the questions, and don't make eye contact with anyone except the judge, ADA, and attorneys. I mean, there weren't any outbursts or anything from the gallery." He ran his hand through his hair. "I have to be missing something."

Russell entered the room to see what progress the two had made. "Anything?"

Greg sighed, "No, nobody turned up at any other scene."

Russell recognized Greg's distress. "Well, we have pictures to prove he was at least on site at the last three scenes. So, if you can't duplicate the face…" He paused hoping Greg would pick up his train of thought.

"…then the face has changed. It's more than one person. It's different people at all three scenes." Russell nodded. "Then we're back to square one." Greg pulled his hair. "I can't believe we're getting _nowhere_! I know I'm missing some little detail…"

Leaving the room, Russell said, "Don't get discouraged. We'll get to the bottom of this. I'm going to see if Hodges has picked up anything off of the photos."

Morgan tried to reassure him. "You'll get it, Greg. You need to take a break. Get your mind on something else for a while."

"Yeah, like what?"

Standing and offering him her hand, "Like food. I'm starving. Let's go out of the lab for our break." Morgan noticed Greg's slight hesitation. Withdrawing her hand, she said, "I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking."

Shaking his head, Greg smiled. "No, it's okay. Maybe it's a good idea to go out. You can help me look over my shoulder…and, besides, I'm starving, too. Come on, I'll drive."

Greg and Morgan headed for the parking garage outside the lab. As they approached his car, something didn't look right. The car was definitely leaning toward the driver's side. Morgan had a very uneasy feeling as they looked down at the two flat tires. They had both been slashed. "I can't _believe_ this. These are new tires," Greg shouted.

Morgan glanced over her shoulder, "Greg, maybe we should go back into the lab."

"You're kidding, you think this has to do with the stalker?" Greg would have laughed had he not been so angry.

"This is not random, Greg. We need to let Russell know and have someone process your car as soon as possible…And get you out of the open."

Greg shook his head in disbelief. "Yeah, I'll go along with processing my car because I want to know who did this! Somebody's gonna buy me some more tires! But this has nothing to do with the other!" He stormed back toward the lab with Morgan close behind, still surveying the parking garage for any sign of someone lurking about.


	3. Chapter 3

** Someone's Watching**

Chapter 3

Greg had filled Russell in on the tire slashing and was now arguing with him that he should be allowed to process the car. "No, Greg! It's not going to happen! Ok, I know you want to get out of the lab, so you take the hit and run that just came in on Atlantic Street, off Fremont." Greg couldn't believe he was being blocked from an investigation. He stood up and glared down at Russell, "No way!"

Russell stood as well, not quite believing Greg's blatant outburst. "Did you say 'no'?"

Greg realized what he had said. Backpedaling, "I didn't mean it like that…I mean I can't believe you're sending me somewhere else just to get me out of the way."

Russell sighed heavily and sat back down. "Greg, you know you can't process your own vehicle. Look, I understand you don't want the tires to be connected with the stalker, but until we can prove it isn't, we have to assume that it is. And you are getting no where near that investigation. I got Morgan and Nick working your case, I _need_ you to go and process the hit and run."

Sounding a little defeated, Greg said, "Ok, I know. I'll go." He turned to walk out the door.

"And don't take a step out of this building until the uniforms get here to escort you. And please, remember, they're trying to keep an eye on you, so how about working with them, okay?"

"You got it," Greg murmured, not turning around.

Russell rubbed his hands over his face. It was hard to send one of his team out when he knew they could be in danger. It wasn't like Greg would be alone, and he knew Brass' men were capable. Still, it didn't keep him from worrying.

"Hey Russell," Nick walked in with a folder in his hand. "I'm not finding any connections to Greg's recent cases and the pictures. I'm starting to think we should focus on his friends and acquaintances instead of his cases."

Russell agreed, "I think you might be right, but…I don't want Greg to know we're investigating his personal life yet. Why don't you dig around at his gym and see what you can come up with. Do you know where he goes?"

Nodding, Nick said, "Yeah, I've been with him a few times."

"Do the people there know you too well? Would it be better for someone else to go?" Russell asked.

"No, no. It's a big place. It'll be fine." And he was out the door.

Morgan completed processing Greg's car and was on her way to find Russell when Hodges walked up beside her. "I heard about Sander's tires. Bad break."

Morgan kept walking, "Yeah, he was fuming! I just processed his car. I got nothing. Did you find any prints on the pictures he received?"

"Yes, Greg's and Russell's. Nothing else."

Morgan stopped short. "You're kidding, right?"

Hodges tucked his chin and looked up at her, "Oh Cointreau, I jest not…" Hodges could be narcissist at times, but he did consider Greg a friend and was concerned. Morgan rolled her eyes and him and continued walking. Hodges quickly followed.

"What do you think about the pictures?"

"I don't know," Morgan replied honestly. "He doesn't think they are connected with the slashed tires. I think he's too close to be objective. I mean, he has to be freaked out about someone watching him."

"And maybe he doesn't want us to know just how freaked out he really is." Hodges added sympathetically.

Morgan nodded and continued on her way leaving Hodges behind, "I think you may be on to something."

Nick interviewed several people at Greg's gym. All he found out was that Greg was well liked, worked out hard, and wouldn't drink more than one beer when he was out with friends for fear of being called in to work. No one seemed to have a hidden agenda against him. But he wasn't giving up. He would come back later to talk with a few more people. None of the pictures taken of Greg had been while he was at the gym. That could either mean it was a dead end or where the idea of stalking him originated. He needed to get back to the lab and compare notes with Morgan.

"Hey Morgan," Nick called as he saw her in the hall way ahead of him.

She stopped and turned to wait on him. "I hope you found something because both Hodges and I came up empty."

Shaking his head, "Sorry, same here. Let's identify where the pictures were taken and see if the stalker left any trace behind."

"Good idea," Morgan agreed. I'll grab the pictures and meet you in the A/V lab in a few."

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	4. Chapter 4

** Someone's Watching**

Chapter 4

The following shift, Morgan was searching for trace at the locations the pictures of Greg had been taken. Several new cases had come in so Nick and Greg had gone out in the field to process a 419 in front of the local middle school. The killer had been shot and was in route to the hospital. His chances didn't look good. A school basketball game had ended moments before the events began to unfold so there were numerous witnesses, and their statements had to be taken. Brass had wanted to do that down at the station since most of the witnesses were minors and their parents would have to be notified and asked to come in. That would save a lot of field time for Nick and Greg, and they were grateful. They were just finishing up when Greg's cell rung.

"Sanders," he absently answered. His spirits seemed to lift immediately. "Oh great, so it's ready? I didn't expect to hear from you so soon."

Nick chuckled to himself as he put equipment back in his kit. Greg had been complaining about how long it would take to get his car back with new tires. _And_, what it would probably cost him. He glanced up at Greg and saw his smile fade. All of the color seemed to drain from his face. Nick stood and walked up to him.

Greg spoke softly into the phone. "Yeah, okay. You've got them?…Uhh, yes, somebody will be right over. I'll pick the car up after my shift. Thanks."

"What is it? Is it your car?" Nick was anxious to know what had changed Greg's mood so suddenly.

"Yeah," Greg answered quietly, "The tires weren't slashed. They were shot. Tony's got the bullets for us." He slowly shook his head. "I…uhh…I don't know…it was the stalker, wasn't it?" He looked at Nick seeking an answer.

Putting his hand on Greg's shoulder with a comforting squeeze, Nick nodded his head. "I'm afraid so, buddy…Come on, we're finished here. Let's get back to the lab."

"Hey Scott, we're heading back now. Thanks," Nick shouted a dismissal to the uniformed officer who had been on scene with them.

Officer Scott nodded in acknowledgement to Nick and cranked his engine. He gave the two CSIs a couple more seconds as he surveyed the surroundings and decided all was clear before pulling away.

Greg stood where he was as Nick grabbed both of their kits and headed for the Denali. Greg lowered his head, closed his eyes and sighed deeply. He couldn't believe this was happening. Why would anyone be stalking _him? _ He needed time to think, he needed to talk this through with someone, he needed…he had no idea what he needed. Shaking his head and drawing in a deep breath, he headed for the Denali. Nick was still at the back of the vehicle securing their kits and evidence for the ride back to the lab. Greg felt beat. The stress of this was beginning to get to him. He opened the door to get in, and stopped in his tracks.

Nick hated the news they had just received. The stalker had definitely kicked this up a notch. He couldn't imagine how someone could have shot Greg's tires at the LVPD parking garage and no one know it. As soon as he got back to the lab he would pull the video from the garage. Something had to be on it. They may have just caught a break after all.

He opened the door to jump in and abruptly stopped. Greg was standing, motionlessly, in the open door on the other side of the truck, staring at the passenger seat. Nick followed Greg's gaze down to a small manila envelope, identical to the one that had contained the photos of the younger CSI.

Nick tensed. He didn't want to alarm Greg. Calmly, yet firmly, Nick demanded, "Greg, close the door and come around here."

It was obvious Greg had heard nothing.

Gritting his teeth and a little more forceful, Nick tried again. "GREG, listen to me, man!"

Greg glanced up.

"Close the door and quickly come over here."

He just shook his head. His mind wasn't grasping what Nick wanted.

"NOW, DO IT!"

Greg closed the door and walked around the truck as instructed. "There's another envel—"

With his eyes quickly scanning the buildings and landscape around them, Nick took a step away from the opened driver's door of the Denali. He pointed to the ground between himself and the remaining open door. "Come and stand here," he interrupted as Greg approached him.

"What?" Greg was clearly confused. "What are you doing? We've got to see what's in the envelope, it may be more pictures."

"We're not touching the envelope, and I'm getting you out of the line of fire."

Greg suddenly realized where Nick was going with this. He quickly glanced around as Nick had done seconds ago.

With Greg still standing, Nick pushed him face down on the seat. Clearly uneasy with the position he'd been pushed to, Greg gave Nick a quick sneer and repositioned himself by squatting in the floorboard.

Nick rolled his eyes. "Just keep your head down." Nick quickly punched Brass' number on his speed dial. After a couple of beats, Brass answered. "Jim, it's Nick. I need you to get Officer Scott back to our location ASAP. We got another envelope from Greg's stalker. And his tires weren't slashed, they we shot. I don't want to chance a sniper having us in his cross hairs.…Yeah, I got him out of sight for the moment…Okay, and give Russell a call, will you?"

When Nick looked back in the Denali he saw Greg struggling to get something out of the pocket of his vest. Nick realized what he had in mind.

Shaking his head, he reached for Greg's arm in an attempt to stop him. "No, man. There's no need to get a glove out. You know we can't touch that envelope."

Greg looked pleadingly at Nick, "I won't leave any prints. Come on, Nick, I have to see them before everybody else. You know you would if they were of you."

Greg was right. Nick couldn't help but for feel for him. Who would know? Against his better judgment, Nick gave in. "Okay, but hurry up." He again started surveying their surroundings, making sure no one was lurking in the shadows. Greg quickly retrieved the gloves from his vest pocket. As soon as they were on, he grabbed the envelope and carefully opened it. He stared at the pictures. "My God," kept going over and over in his mind, but he found himself unable to form the spoken words. He picked up a note that tumbled out from between the pictures. He unfolded it and quickly read the message. He read the note two more times to be sure he understood what it said. His mind raced to come up with an explanation for what he was about to do. He didn't have time to think about it any longer. He would just play it as he went along. He hastily stuffed the note and photos back into the envelope, then inside his vest.

Noticing what Greg was doing, Nick couldn't believe what he was seeing. "Wait, what are you doing?"

Greg ignored him. Nick had to stop him. He was tampering with evidence. He grabbed Greg's arm.

"Greg! What is wrong with you, man! I _knew_ I shouldn't have let you look!

Greg shrugged away from him. "Look, it was just a false alarm. This isn't from the stalker; it's just an envelope that I had earlier." Greg pushed Nick aside and got out of the floor board of the Denali. Nick was left standing with his mouth hanging open. Greg went around and got into the passenger seat. He looked across the seat and saw Nick still standing outside the open door gaping at him. "Get in, let's go."

Nick got into the truck and slammed the door. He was both confused and annoyed. "What are you talking about? You didn't have an envelope earlier."

Greg raised an eyebrow at Nick. He spoke slowly and directly. "Yes, I did. It was a mistake. I panicked after finding out about the tires. I jumped to conclusions when I saw the envelope and assumed it was another one from the stalker."

It obviously was a lie.

Nick shook his head, "Don't you lie to me, man. You actually think I believe you?"

Greg shot Nick a look that quickly turned from annoyance to pleading. "I _need_ you to believe me," he said quietly…"Please Nick, for now, just believe me."

They both looked up as Officer Scott's car roared to a stop beside them and he jumped out with his hand on his gun.

Nick sighed and opened his door, "I'll take care of this. You call Brass and Russell." He slammed the door and walked over to the officer to offer a fabricated explanation.

Greg hadn't realized he had been holding his breath. He closed his eyes and released it slowly. He knew how fortunate he was Nick had agreed to go along with him. Now, his immediate problem was deciding what lie he would tell Brass and his boss. He figured Brass would be nearest to their scene since he had left only a few minutes before Officer Scott. Greg punched the number he had assigned to Brass in his speed dial. After a brief explanation that Brass seemed to believe, Greg ended the call. He dreaded making the next one. Russell would surely question him more, and most likely see through him. He steadied himself and waited for an answer.

"Yeah, Greg, I'm on my way there. Tell me what's going on." Russell was starting the third degree before Greg could say anything at all. He rolled his eyes; this was going to be harder that he had thought.

Greg gave it his best shot. "Russell, you don't have to come. Actually, Nick and I are about to head back to the lab…I'm sorry for the confusion. It was nothing. I just was a little jittery after I found out that my tires had been shot out instead of slashed. There was an envelope in the Denali and I just, you know, I thought it was from the stalker. I was wrong." He waited to see if Russell bought into his ruse.

Russell was silent for a moment. "I see, so everything's ok?"

Greg let out the breath he'd been holding. He tried to sound convincing, "Yes, I'm really sorry for all the confusion. We'll be back at the lab in a few minutes."

Russell thumped his thumb on the steering wheel. Something wasn't right, but he could tell Greg was desperately attempting to convince him otherwise. He wasn't going to get any answers over the phone. He needed to talk to Greg face to face. For the time being, he thought it best to let Greg think everything was okay. "Sounds good. Get back to the lab as you can. I have something else for you and Nick."

"Sure thing," Greg closed him eyes and laid his head back on the headrest, thankful the conversation had gone so well. He had to get back to the lab, but he knew he couldn't stay there. The "imaginary" pictures he had just received had been very disturbing, and now he knew he wasn't safe anywhere. The pictures had been taken inside the lab. There were pictures of him in the break room, all of the various labs, and even in the locker room. _And, _they didn't seem to be taken from a stationary camera. There were different angles of the same photos. It _had _to be someone he knew, someone he talked with daily. Someone he trusted. But that wasn't all. There were also the photos taken of him inside his home. Some of those were of him cooking, watching TV, doing his laundry, even sleeping. They really creeped him out. _How _could someone be in his _home _and he have no clue. His shook his head. Then, there was the other picture; the one that disgusted him. He had tried for years to forget that particular day in his life and, honestly, he thought it was behind him. Old wounds had been torn open with that one photograph and now, it threatened to turn his world upside down.

"GREG," Nick shouted bringing him back to reality. He hadn't even known Nick had gotten back in the Denali. He didn't say anything; only looked questioningly at Nick. Nick returned the look.

"Okay, man. It's time for some answers," Nick said. "You got to let me know why I just lied for you."

"You're just buying me time, okay? I need to figure some things out…and thanks." He hoped if he kept talking, maybe it would satisfy Nick. "I cleared everything with Brass and Russell. They're good. We need to go pick up the bullets Tony got out of my tires, but we'll have to do it later because Russell said he wants us to get back in as soon as we can. He's got something else for us to do…"

Nick only stared at him. Finally, he shook his head and turned the key in the ignition. "No, they're not good. Russell will want answers. So you'd better figure out what you need to figure out soon." Then, he pulled out into traffic and headed for the lab.

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	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

The drive back to the crime lab was unusually quiet; both men trying to figure out what was going on. One aching for answers; the other for decisions. Nick was annoyed and slightly hurt that Greg refused to confide in him. They had been friends for a long time. It worried him not knowing what Greg had gotten involved in. He hoped Greg would reach out before too much longer. Nick sensed Greg was in more danger than any of them realized.

Greg appreciated Nick trying to help, but, honestly, he wished he would just stay out of it for now. "_Think, think, think," _his mind screamed. He _had_ to figure out what he was going to do. As they continued toward the lab, he began to devise his plan.

Suddenly, Nick's cell chirped signaling an incoming text. He grabbed his phone and quickly read the message.

_Russell: "Come straight to my office when you get in."_

Nick sighed. He shook he head as he replaced his cell in its holder.

"Russell?" Greg asked dreadfully.

"Yep."

Greg threw his head back on the headrest and closed his eyes. As he was about to speak, his cell also signaled an incoming text. He grabbed his phone. As expected, it was from Russell.

_Russell: "Go immediately to the break room. Stay there until I call you." _

"I've got to go '_immediately to the break room,'" _he said mockingly. "What about you?"

Nick huffed, "I go straight to his office."

Anger flashed across Greg's face. "Great! He's asking _you _what happened before _me? _What's he think I'm going to do, lie about it?"

"_Well_…he might be onto something." Nick glared at him.

Greg just shook his head. Anger turning to frustration, he uttered, "I'm not lying about anything. I'm just hanging on to the envelope until I figure out what I need to do."

At a loss for further words, Nick turned his attention back to the highway.

A block away from the crime lab, Greg took a deep breath and seemed more confident. "_Don't screw this up, Sanders," _he warned himself.

"Drop me off in front of the PD before you park," he instructed Nick.

Surprised that Greg was choosing to defy Russell, Nick probed, "What about Russell? He's going to be pissed if you don't do what he said."

Greg scoffed, "Don't worry; he'll be busy with you."

"What are you going to do?"

"I've got to talk to Brass. I might as well get it over with."

Nick couldn't hide his relief with Greg's decision. "Well, now you're talking," Nick encouraged. "It's the best thing, Greg."

Pulling up to the curb, Nick continued to show Greg his approval, "Don't worry, man. We're going to figure everything out. It's going to be okay."

Greg stepped out onto the curb. "Yeah…if you say so," he said without looking back.

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	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

"Everywhere we look, we hit a dead end. What do you suggest we do next?" Morgan looked exhausted. She and Fin had devoted all of their time to trying to discover the identity of Greg's stalker. Even Fin felt useless.

"I don't know, Morgan," Fin confessed. "I think we need to sit Greg down and give him the third degree. He has to know more than he realizes." Her lips turned up in a smile as her eyes lit up. "Wait, let's not give up yet. I have an idea that just might give us some answers. Come with me."

Fin quickly headed down the hall to the evidence locker with Morgan on her heels.

Nick entered Russell's office, closing the door behind him, as the ladies rushed by. He was so preoccupied with dread of the meeting with his boss that he didn't hear their promising exchange. Russell motioned to the chair across from his desk.

"What's going on, Nick? Greg was obviously hiding something," Russell interrogated.

Reporting the events as best he could, Nick filled Russell in on what had happened; including Greg denying a new envelope existed to him saying he just needed time to figure things out. He felt as though he was betraying Greg, but he didn't think he needed to lie to his boss either. At least Greg was doing the right thing now. Talking to Brass about the envelope would surely get them off Greg's back.

"Where is the envelope? We'll check it for prints," Russell held out his hand for the envelope.

"Uhh," Nick shifted in his seat. "Well, actually, Greg has it."

Russell looked over his glasses, "You've got to be kidding me?" He sat back in his chair, lifted his glasses and rubbed his hands over his face. After a few moments, he replaced his glasses and folded his arms across his desk. "Why?" His eyes pierced through Nick.

"Well, uhh," he tried to keep his composure. "He wanted to see what was in it. It was obviously more photos…and," his confidence kicking in, "he wanted to see them before everybody else did. Hell, I don't blame him. I would have wanted to see them, too. If I'd been in his place, you couldn't have _kept _them from me. I never got a look, but they really freaked him out. That's when he started denying it was a new envelope."

"Okay," Russell sighed. Both of his CSIs were at fault, but he had trouble blaming Greg, he was personally involved. But Nick knew better than to leave the evidence in Greg's procession. "The envelope _is_ sealed with the other evidence from your scene, right?"

Nick shook his head, realizing the seriousness of the broken chain of evidence. "No, Greg has it on him." He braced for the explosion he knew was inevitable.

"Damn it, Nick! Is there any protocol you _didn't_ break tonight?!" Russell couldn't contain his anger. "Get back to work! I'll get it from Greg! He's in the break room; tell him I'm ready to see him." He started rearranging papers on his desk trying to regain his composure.

Nick stood up, but didn't move. "He's not in the break room. He wanted to talk to Brass so I drop him off in front of the PD." This meeting had not turned out as he had hoped.

Russell sat back in his chair. He removed his glasses and placed the arm in his mouth. "Thank you," he said dismissing Nick.

He shook his head as he watched Nick leave his office. This behavior was very unlike Nick. He still felt they were withholding something. His reached for his cell and punch in Brass' number on speed dial. Brass answered on the first ring.

"Jim, is Greg still with you?"

"Greg? No, the last I talked with him was when he called saying there was no new envelope from his stalker."

"I think we may have a problem," Russell said, dread slowing consuming him.

Please review. More to come soon.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Greg slipped through the glass doors of the LVPD. He knew the success of his plan depended on what would happen during the next few minutes. He attempted to maintain a brisk pace without drawing attention to his urgency as he made his way through the police department and on to the crime lab. The other CSIs and lab techs were all busy with their various duties, which allowed Greg to slip through the hallways unnoticed. Glancing over his shoulder, he quickly entered the locker room and opened his locker. He grabbed the backpack, which contained a change of clothes and assorted toiletries. As he put his hand on his gun, verifying he was still wearing it, he mentally checked items to retrieve off the list in his head. He was about to close the locker when he paused. He unclipped his cell phone from his belt and placed it inside the locker. Then, he reached in his pocket to retrieve the envelope he had tried to deny existed. He slid the photos out in his hand and hurriedly shuffled through them. After removing two pictures he didn't want anyone to see, the one that repulsed him, and the note which had been included, Greg stuffed the others back in the envelope and placed it in the locker next to his cell phone. He hated leaving the pictures in his locker, but in the unfortunate event that something did happen to him, he wanted the team to know about them. He gently closed the door and slung the pack on his shoulder. He peeked out of the locker room door. Hodges was just turning the corner, causing him to duck back inside. After a couple of beats, he tried again. This time, Fin and Morgan rushed out of the AV lab. Ducking back inside again, he held his breath, shut his eyes, and willed them not to come toward the locker room. Realizing the sound of their voices was moving away from him, he opened his eyes and darted from the room.

Greg had been successful leaving the lab without being seem, but he still wasn't home free. Avoiding Nick coming back through the parking garage was his next obstacle. Deciding it best to hold up behind a large support column until the coast was clear, he ducked out of sight. In less than a minute, he heard the soft clicking of his friend's boots on the pavement as Nick approached. Greg waited until he was out of sight before heading for his personal car. Soon he was pulling out of the LVPD parking garage and into the streets of Vegas.

Greg couldn't get the images of the most resent photos out of his mind. Knowing the stalker had been inside his home and the lab was hard for Greg to grasp. He shook his head at the thought. There was no one new that he could remember being in the lab. And what about his home? Had someone actually installed cameras inside the walls? Surely no one had been _inside with _him and him totally unaware. An involuntary shudder ran through his body. He felt violated and betrayed.

Greg needed to be sure his getaway had been clean. He had scanned his surroundings as he left the lab and hadn't seen anything or anyone unusual, but that wasn't enough. Someone could be tailing him right now. Quickly he glanced in his rearview mirror. He needed another car. One no one would recognize. Driving just out of the city limits, he pulled into the parking lot of a small diner. He had never been in this particular diner before, which, for his purposes at the moment, would be helpful. The probability of anyone knowing him there was almost nonexistent. He parked, grabbed his backpack and sunglasses, locked the car doors and headed inside. The diner was dimly lit and currently only occupied by the guy behind the counter and an elderly gentleman; neither seemed to notice him when he walked in. Greg hoped it stayed that way. It suddenly occurred to him that he hadn't taken time to eat earlier and he was feeling empty. But he wasn't here to eat. He didn't think he could keep anything down now, anyway. Greg slid into a booth in the back of the diner which gave him visual access to both the front and back doors. The counter guy was approaching, so Greg signaled for a black coffee. When he saw the man coming back with the cup, he excused himself to the restroom. He didn't want the guy getting too good of a look at him.

Fifteen minutes later, the old man had finished up, tossed a ten on the table and left. Fortunately, no one else had come in. Checking the time, Greg turned up the last of his coffee. He tossed several bills on the table, grabbed his backpack and headed out the back door to the alley behind the building. Scanning the alley for any suspicious shadows, he slid behind the wheel of the rented Toyota Corolla that the nearest rent-a-car company had just delivered for him. He was glad he had picked up the throw a way cell phone when all of this started a few days ago. Soon the lights of Las Vegas were fading from view as he glanced in his review mirror.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Russell hung up with Brass and rushed out of his office in search of Nick.

"Nick!" he shouted.

"What the hell does he want now?" Nick muttered to himself as he stepped into the hallway and Russell's line of sight. "Yeah?" he answered.

"Guess what, Brass hasn't seen Greg," not intending for it to sound so harsh. Even though he was still upset with Nick, he had made his point with him and he wouldn't dwell on it.

"No way, you _got _to be kidding me!" Nick turned around and hit the wall with his fist, giving in to his anger. "I can't believe he _lied _to me _again!_"

"What do you mean _'again?' "_ Russell questioned.

Nick only shook his head and waved it off. "You know, the whole thing; before he admitted the envelope _was_ from the stalker." Nick walked around with his hands on his hips trying the figure out why Greg had deceived him. Moments ago, he had taken just short of an ass-chewing because of him and it wasn't settling with him too well right now.

Russell stood quietly, giving him time to stew.

Nick stopped his parading display and turned to Russell. "Look, he told me he had decided to get it over with and talk to Brass. Why wouldn't I have believed him?! He was freaked out! Then he seemed to calm down a little. I thought he had made the decision to talk it over with Brass first because he was worried about talking it over with you." Some of the anger faded from Nick's voice as the expression on Russell's face registered with him.

"Am I that hard to talk to?" Surprise and disappointment was in Russell's voice.

"Well, besides the chewing you just gave me, no," Nick answered honestly. "I don't know, Russell. He wasn't thinking straight. The problem's not you; it's Greg." He threw up his hands, "I mean having a stalker is a damned disturbing thing."

Russell let out a sigh. "Yeah, I'm sure it is…Okay, search the lab. He may be in the restroom or something. I'm going to talk to some folks over in PD to see if anyone saw him or talked to him."

After searching the lab with no luck, Nick speed dialed Greg's cell. No answer; the call went to his voice mail. He headed to the AV lab to request a GPS location from Archie on the cell.

"Hey, man. I need you to get a locate on Greg's cell."

Archie took a playful shot at Nick, "What's wrong, Sanders mad at you and won't answer?"

Nick smirked, "Cute, just do it."

Archie smiled as he started entering Greg's cell number on the keyboard. "You know I'm always glad to help you out, Nick." After a few seconds, Archie let out a small laugh. "You don't have to go far. He's in the lab."

"Are you sure? I just searched the entire lab. I couldn't find him."

"The screen doesn't lie," Archie responded.

Nick punched in the speed dial number again and began another walk through. "Okay, thanks Archie. I'll check again." One, two, three rings and then, "_You've reached Greg Sanders. Sorry I can't take your call at the moment. Please leave a message." _ Nick waited a couple of seconds, then hit redial again. He repeated this process two more times before walking into the locker room. A muffled vibration caught his attention. He followed the soft noise to Greg's locker. He reached up then hesitated.  
"_This is Greg's private stuff,"_ went through his mind. "Not today," Nick spoke out loud as he reached up and opened the locker.

Nick's eyes quickly fell on the envelope. "What the …" This made no sense. Nick's brows furrowed as he considered what this could mean. "He came through the lab, to his locker, left these, and then, went where?" he said softly to himself. "He was trying to get away from me," Nick slowly realized with a bit of contempt registering on his face. He grabbed the envelope and dumped the photos out in his hand. He flipped through the first two pictures quickly and then gasped as he recognized where Greg had been when the pictures were taken. Things were beginning to fall into place. He _knew_ why Greg had been so upset. Greg didn't know who to trust.

Nick had to tell Russell what he had discovered, but what if someone in the lab was watching? He didn't want anyone to think Greg had given him the photos. Devising a plan of his own, Nick quickly grabbed his pen and pad from his vest pocket and scribbled out two notes. He ripped the papers from the pad and returned the pen and pad to his pocket. Leaving the locker room, Nick headed for the AV lab.

"Hey Archie, I just wanted to drop this off for you," Nick said laying one of the notes down in front of Archie. "I'll be back in a few minutes to check with you." Nick left the lab as quickly as he had entered.

Confused, Archie looked down at the note, "_For your eyes only. GS may be in trouble. Stalker has access to lab. Check video cams to see where he may have gone. Thx."_

"Sure thing," Archie mumbled as he quickly started to work on the covert request.

After leaving the AV lab, Nick ducked into trace. Hodges seemed slightly annoyed as he caught sight of Nick.

"No doubt, I am both a meticulous and prompt DNA technician, but really Stokes, even I deserve an adequate time to procress..." Hodges began.

"Just need an empty folder, Hodges," Nick interrupted him. "I spilled coffee on mine and Russell wants this report now," Nick furthered his ruse.

Relieved, Hodges gave an disingenuous smile, "Sure, help yourself."

"Thanks." Nick grabbed the folder, stuffed the second note he'd scribbled inside along with a blank report form, and rushed from the lab.

Seeing Russell was just coming back from the PD, Nick headed for him. "Russell," he called. He handed him the folder in the hallway. "Here is the report you've been waiting on. I've got to following up on something. Just give me a call if you need any more info on that report." Nick didn't wait for a reply. He was out the door and in search of something he had no idea of where to begin.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Russell watched Nick walk away with no idea what he was talking about. Brow furrowed, Russell opened the folder Nick had presented him. His eyes immediately fell on the hand written note. _"Found Greg's cell & new photos in his locker. Some taken inside the lab. Don't know who to trust. We need to talk. Meet me somewhere outside Vegas. Isolated area where we'll know if we've been followed. Text me location & time." _He slid the note to the side and saw the photos Nick had hidden between two unused report forms.

Russell quickly glanced up to see if anyone was watching. He closed the folder and headed to his office intent on examining the new evidence.

Two hours after Russell had received the folder from Nick, he was settling back in his office. He and Nick had met at a small mom and pop gas station several miles outside of the city. He now understood Greg's strange behavior. He essentially had no privacy. The stalker was with him everywhere he went. Russell had sent Nick to process Greg's home under the radar, or so he hoped. Maybe the cover of night would conceal his presence from anyone who may be shadowing the house. The problem was they didn't know if Greg had left by choice, under duress, or by force. If he had disappeared for his own safety, he didn't want to alert the stalker or stalkers. On the other hand, if they had taken him, Greg was definitely in danger. Brass needed to be brought into this as soon as possible. He picked up his office phone to call him. They had to find Greg and the best way to do that was by issuing an APB on him and his car. Russell didn't have a good feeling about this. Time was too precious to waste. They had to figure out what was going on.

After placing the necessary call to get the wheels rolling for an APB, Brass had come over to the lab to talk the case over with Russell. They discussed what they knew for certain and several different scenarios of why Greg could be missing. Archie had been able to follow his car through part of Vegas, but then it disappeared. He verified Greg was at the wheel but couldn't verify if he was alone.

Brass stood to leave. "Okay, D. B. Let me know if Nick finds anything. Maybe the APB will turn up something soon." He walked out of the office and back toward the PD, leaving Russell alone.

"Hi," Sara said sticking her head in Russell's office door. His thoughts interrupted, he glanced up.

"You've got three more days of vacation. What are you doing back?"

"The weather was bad; I was bored. Just wanted to get back into the swing of things," she smirked and smiled.

"Well, thank the Lord!" Russell stood to greet her.

A small laugh escaped her lips, "I had no idea you'd be so glad my vacation was a bust."

"Not normally, but this time, I'm ecstatic. Close the door and sit down," he motioned to a chair in front of his desk, "We've got a situation here."

Russell filled Sara in on all the events of the past few days. He felt better knowing they would have another set of hands and eyes working on Greg's case. Being friends with him for so long, Sara may have insight that the others didn't. Russell's earlier attempt to find information from anyone in the police department hadn't gone well. A few people saw Greg walk through, but no one had talked to him. A couple of them had spoken to him, but said he didn't seem to hear them. They both passed it off as him being extremely busy or deep in thought.

Russell and Sara were busy sizing up the lab personnel, but almost everyone had worked in the lab for quite some time. However, with everyone under suspicion, they began to realize they really didn't know some of their coworkers as well as they should. They both hoped no one in the lab would be capable of anything like this, but to be honest, they just weren't sure.

Fin and Morgan burst into Russell's office. Seeing Sara, they stopped.

"Sara, I don't know why you're back, but I'm glad you are," Fin blurted. She didn't give Sara time to respond. "Morgan and I found something. Since Greg's recent cases were a dead end, we decided to check all of our cases."

"Turns out," Morgan jumped in, "the Bradley case from two weeks ago has ties to Greg."

"I worked that case," Sara said concerned. "It was open and closed. Marcus Bradley is a drug supplier. Three of his dealers turned on him. All the evidence proves it and the witnesses are solid. It didn't have anything to do with Greg."

"We didn't think so either, at first," said Morgan.

"But," Fin explained, "since all the cases we've checked had given us nothing; we decided to dig further into all of them. Bradley has a very colorful past. Fifteen years ago, he was charged with assault in San Francisco. His victim was Sanford University student, Gregory Sanders. The report shows that Greg was hospitalized for five days."

"Oh my god," Russell reached for the folder Morgan was holding. "Five days…that was some assault. I can't believe it. Great work."

"Yes, it is," Sara chimed in. "There was so much on Bradley's rap sheet that I only went back ten years. There was enough to show he was a habitual criminal. I should have looked further."

"Who would have? But, since it wasn't Greg's case," Morgan continued, "he didn't know anything about Bradley being in Vegas."

"Well, this definitely connects him to Greg, and I'm guessing Bradley may have been attempting to get some leverage on his case through Greg." Russell continued to read the file.

Understanding where Russell was going, Sara said, "…By tampering with the evidence."

Morgan shook her head, "But Greg would never do that."

"Exactly," Fin added, "but does Bradley know that? Possibly the last time he saw Greg was fifteen years ago. He may think Greg's afraid of him."

Russell thought for a moment. "He may, and the pictures prove he can get to Greg anytime he wants." He shook his head considering the new information. "…Or, Bradley could be threating Greg."

The others exchanged worried looks.

"Wait a minute," Fin was puzzled. "Are Greg and Nick still processing a scene? Shouldn't they be back?"

Russell sat back down and signed, "There are some new developments that I need to fill you and Morgan in on."

He explained the new information they had received and the most recent events in Greg's case, including the contents of the new photos and the APB. Russell's cell chirped.

Checking the caller ID, Russell answered, "Yeah, Jim, what do you have?"

"_Just got a report of shots fired at Greg's residence. Have you verified he's not there?"_

"_What?! _No, I haven't, but Nick's there processing his house. Was anyone hit?" Russell questioned.

"_I don't know. I'm headed there now. Try to get in touch with Nick. The nearest unit's just a couple of minutes away."_

Before Russell could dial Nick's number, his cell rang again. He checked the caller ID. "Nick, talk to me."

"_I'm pinned down, man! I need some backup!" _Nick yelled.

"Hang on, help's one minute away! Are you hit?"

"Yeah, but just grazed on the shoulder! I'm okay!"

"Keep your head down. I'm on my way," Russell ended the call. "I sent Nick to process Greg's house. Somebody's taking shots at him. He's got a flesh wound. Keep searching, see what else you can dig up." And he was out the door.


	10. Chapter 10

** Someone's Watching**

Chapter 10

Greg checked the time and finished off his second cup of whatever the "C" rated diner was attempting to pass off as coffee. He had wanted a drink, but knew the amount it would take to settle his nerves would keep him from driving legally. The stalker's note had directed him to a small town forty-five minutes from Vegas. It had given him a room number at a rundown hotel a couple of blocks over from the diner. He had driven to the address when he arrived to check out the location. He knew he was taking a foolish risk going alone, but he didn't have a choice. He debated calling Russell, but decided against it. If he could talk to this guy, maybe he could avoid anyone discovering what he had tried to hide for so many years. Greg raked both hands through his hair and closed his eyes, willing this all to go away. He didn't know who the meeting was to be with, but he was fairly sure he knew what it was about. Unwelcomed memories of 15 years earlier, when he was a student at Stanford, flooded his mind. He tried to shake them out of his head, but it was useless. He checked his watch again and sighed. It was time to meet his stalker.

Greg surveyed his surroundings as he walked up to Room 124 and stopped. He raised his hand to knock, but hesitated, his hand freezing in midair. Then he quickly knocked.

After a couple of beats, the door swung open. Russ Lucas stood before him. His anxiety quickly turned to hatred as he eyed one of the men who had caused him so much agony years ago.

"What the hell do you want?" Greg hissed.

The man smirked. "Come on, Sanders. I was hoping you'd be a little more excited to see me. Haven't you been expecting me?"

Greg only stared at him, disgust in his eyes. Lucas laughed, seemingly amused by Greg's reaction.

Stepping aside, he motioned toward the hotel room. "Well, come on inside."

"If you want to talk, we talk out here." Greg was determined to take control of this situation before it got out of hand. He wouldn't allow himself to be manipulated again. If he talked to Russ Lucas, it would be on his terms from this point forward. Greg hadn't noticed the presence silently approaching him from behind. His breath caught as the arms tightened around him from behind, affectively pinning his arms to his sides, preventing him from taking defensive action. Careful to make the encounter appear to be a playful embrace, the man leaned closed to Greg's ear.

"Thought you might be a little skittish, Sanders. Now you come on inside before we beat the shit out of you right here." He tried to escape the hold, but the man only increased the pressure of his arms which prevented Greg from taking another breath.

Greg didn't doubt the man would follow through with his threat. There was nothing he could do to prevent himself from being maneuvered into the room. Dread filled his being as he heard the door slam and lock.

Once inside, the man released Greg. He then delivered a quick elbow to his ribs. Greg grimaced and bent slightly, but kept his composure.

He had recognized the voice of the man who had forced him inside as belonging to Eric Hilton. Sitting at the small table in the corner of the room, nursing a beer, was Joe Logins. Where was Bradley? Panic rose in Greg throat. This was worse than he had expected.

"Sit down," Lucas demanded, pointing to the bed.

"I prefer to stand," Greg snarled although panic was about to overcome him.

Lucas turned and Greg never saw the upper cut coming. He hit the floor with a thud and a groan. As he attempted to push himself up with his arms, his head was still spinning. Lucas reached down and jerked him up by the collar and slung him on the bed.

"I said, 'Sit down!'" Lucas was losing his patience.

Regaining some of his senses, Greg slid back to the edge of the bed and sat as instructed.

"Now, I'm sure you remember your old buddies, Hilton and Logins," Lucas pointed his head in their direction.

Greg surveyed both with disgust. Over the years he had forgotten how much he loathed them.

The look caused a small smile to cross Lucas' lips. "I guess you're probably wondering where Bradley is. Actually, he's the reason we're all gathered here today."

"What's that supposed to mean?" He had Greg's attention. Bradley had been behind everything before; the thought of him scheming something else, _and _that it included him, was unnerving.

Lucas flashed the disgusted look this time. "Don't play dumb with me, Sanders! You know he's behind bars because his street dealers ratted him out to the cops."

Greg was genuinely surprised. He knew Bradley was a thug and couldn't imagine anyone going against him. But being a drug supplier had definitely kicked things up a notch. His dealers must be insane to turn him in. The thought multiplied his fear tenfold.

"Actually, I _didn't_ know that." Greg answered honestly.

"He is. But you're about to take care of that."

A nervous laugh escaped Greg's lips. "What do you expect _me _to do? I can't get him out of jail."

"You will. And you're going to do it by bring me the evidence that implicates him."

Greg was having troubles believing what he was being told to do. "I can't do that! And, besides, you said his dealers turned him in. What about them?" His voice was beginning to rise.

"The dealers are not your problem. They're being taken care of," growing tired of the questions. "And I'm sure you'll find a way to do what you're told or else."

Greg had a feeling this was what he had been dreading, "Or else what?"

Lucas, Hilton, and Logins began laughing as Logins turned the laptop he had been working on towards Greg.

"We've got a little surprise for you and I don't believe you've ever seen," Logins laughed as he hit "Play."

Greg felt his world falling from beneath him. Sensuous music had been added and he didn't remember the lighting, but he definitely remembered being a part of what he was seeing. Even though the audio was on, he couldn't allow himself to decipher what was being said. Waves of nausea began to overtake him. Greg closed his eyes praying that when he opened them again, the screen would be different. But, it wasn't. It was the same; Greg Sanders tied to a bed, star of his own porn film; the other men in the room were his co-stars. Bradley had been behind the camera. The video continued and Greg began to zone out. He mind went back to the night it happened. He remembered it all very vividly. After they concluded the film, they had proceeded to beat him unconscious and dump him behind a liquor store. He would never have revealed the identity of the attackers, but Bradley had carelessly left a credit card in his pocket and it had fallen out. He was arrested and found guilty of the assault, but Greg never reported the rape or the others involved.

The visual and emotional assault continued for 42 minutes. When it concluded, Logins powered off the laptop and closed it. Greg was numb. There was nothing he could do or say. He knew exactly what the 'or else' would be. This video released on the internet. Fifteen years ago, that had not been a concern for him. But things had changed. Who would have ever believed that technology would be his undoing?

"You have 24 hours," Lucas began, "if you fail to deliver, your cameo appearance will hit the internet." Lucas paused, gauging Greg's response. There was no objections, no questions, nothing. Greg only stared into his eyes.

"You got something to say?" Lucas probed.

Greg sighed, "No." He knew what he had to do and, more importantly, he knew that he would. He would be destroyed if the video turned up on the web. The men had threatened him when the film was made that they would always hold it over his head. And now, that's exactly what they were doing.

"Give me your socks," Lucas demanded.

"What?" Greg thought he had misunderstood.

"Socks, Sanders!"

Greg bent over and removed his shoes and socks. He glanced up and saw the men all gathered around him. He quickly stood as panic consumed him once more.

"As before, we need to leave you with a little something to remember us by," laughed Lucas.

Hilton and Logins grabbed Greg as Lucas jerked his shirt open, popping the buttons off as he went. Lucas yanked the socks from Greg's hand and stuffed them into his mouth. He then scooped up the rope he had placed on the chair beside the bed while the other two men struggled with Greg to remove his tee shirt. They dragged him over to the bathroom door and wrapped the rope around both wrists. They threw the rope over the door and tightened it, thus leaving him shirtless with the arms stretched and secured to the top of the door. As realization of what was about to happen registered with him, Greg began to thrash about in an attempt to free himself.

Greg cried out at the incredible force of the first lash of the belt. A mental picture of Eric Hilton's 6'4" muscular frame flashed through his mind. It was no doubt Hilton delivering the blows. Greg barely was able to suck in a small breath before the belt again set his back on fire. He was powerless to prevent the tears from forming in his eyes. And no matter how hard he tried to steel himself for the next blow, he was unable the hold back the muffled screams as the belt dug into his flesh. When the lashes finally ceased, Greg was unconscious.

When he came to, Greg was lying in the back seat of the rented car. The pain was overwhelming. He gingerly pulled his shirt back on. He needed something for the pain and a place to rest. He walked to the hotel office, rented a room, and purchased a bottle of Tylenol and water from the convenience store next door. He immediately downed 4 of the pills and washed it down with half the bottle of water. Alcohol was what he needed, but he didn't have time to get over its effects. He had to get himself straightened out and back to the lab. But, God, he had to get some relief first. Greg headed back in search of the room he had been assigned with a new dread settling over him. _How was he going to get into the evidence room and steal sealed evidence from a case that he had nothing to do with?_


	11. Chapter 11

** Someone's Watching**

Chapter 11

When Russell and Fin arrived at Greg's residence, several squad cars and an ambulance were already there. They saw Nick sitting quietly while an EMT tended to his shoulder. Brass stepped up to update them of the events that had taken place and what progress had been made.

"Shooters were gone when we got here. Seems to be only two; we found casings behind those shrubs and behind the palm trees on the other side of the street. Both were 9 mm. And Nick's okay. He was lucky. They didn't want him dead. At that range, a kid could have made a kill shot."

"Yeah, I agree. Thanks, Jim," Russell said as he began rubbing his brow.

"Maybe there's something in the house someone doesn't want us to find," Fin wondered out loud.

"Or, they could be trying to scare us off the case," Russell countered.

"Maybe Greg came back here when he disappeared from the lab and they thought he left the photos here," Fin continued on with her theory.

"No, I don't think so. It's about a lot more than the photos. They're only purpose may be to get inside Greg's head."

Fin sighed, "Well, they've accomplished that."

When they got back to the lab, Nick brought them up to speed with what he'd discovered in Greg's house.

"You know, Greg's a decent house keeper. Nothing was really out of place except maybe for him getting ready for work last night. I lifted a few prints; I didn't want to completely wreck his place. Morgan's checking the prints now. There was no evidence that anyone else had been in the house. No sign of a struggle; there was only one glass and one coffee cup in the sink. I checked for hidden cameras or wire tapes," Nick shrugged his shoulders, "but, there was nothing. I'm afraid that whoever took those pictures of him was inside with him when he shot them," Nick finished. It made a shiver run through him thinking that someone was that close and Greg was unaware of it. Memories of his own stalker from years ago crept into his mind. He quickly shook his head in an attempt to erase them from his mind. He never wanted to relive those feelings, especially now.

"Do you think Greg could have been drugged?" asked Sara.

"Sure, he could have been for the ones of him asleep, but, I don't think that would have been the case with the others," Russell answered thoughtfully.

Fin had an idea, "Let's take a closer look. He may not be as awake as we first thought."

Fin and Sara were about to leave in search of Archie when Morgan rushed in the door.

"I just got a text from Greg. He's okay," Morgan blurted holding her cell to her chest.

Russell reached for the phone, "Let me see." His studied the message while deep in thought; then read aloud.

"_Tell everyone I'm okay. I just panicked and had to get out of Vegas. I just need some time to myself. I'll be back at the lab in a few hours. Just, please, don't let anyone trace the call and come to get me. I just want to be alone. Thanks, G."_

Everyone was relieved, but Russell kept staring at the screen on the cell phone.

"You're not thinking of trying to trace it, or you?" Nick asked, wondering if Russell was aware Greg was using a throw away cell.

Russell sighed and admitted, "I wish I could. I would."

Sara studied his eyes, "You don't believe him, do you?"

Shaking his head, Russell confessed, "Nope, I sure don't."

The others exchanged worried looks as they contemplated what had just been said. Was Greg in so much trouble that he had to lie to all of them?

Russell's cell rang. "Russell," he answered without checking the caller ID. "Really?" he asks curiously. "Okay, we'll check it out. Thanks." He ended the call.

"They found Greg's car at a diner. Nick, you're with me." Russell headed out the door, but Nick hesitated.

"Now!" Russell shouted going down the hallway.

Nick shot an apprehensive look at the others and followed. "Coming," he answered.

My first fanfic. Please read and review.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

Nick processed Greg's car while Russell talked to the owner and cook of the small diner. The man had no trouble remembering Greg, but found nothing unusual about him. He did, however, fail to see the young man leave the diner. He had noticed his car still parked out front, but assumed he was in the restroom. When he never came out, the man had gone in to check on him, but the restroom was empty. He then dismissed it as the car failed to start and Greg had left by some other means. He was surprised when the patrol car had stopped to check it out. Nothing unusual had been found in Greg's car either. Both feeling defeated, Russell and Nick packed up and headed back to the lab.

As soon as Russell sat back down at his desk, Hodges popped into his office.

"Boss, I think I may have solved the mystery of who took the photos of Greg in the lab," Hodges said hesitantly.

Russell motioned him in as he leaned back in his chair and removed his glasses. "Great, tell me."

"Well," he began, "we had a tech in the DNA lab a few days ago doing routine maintenance on the equipment. Problem is, the real guy just showed up. He's got the paperwork and all."

Russell grabbed the paperwork from Hodges' hand. "No, no, no. How could we let this happen?" He scanned the page before him. "Did we get any identification from the fake tech?" He shot a look at Hodges.

Hodges sighed and shook his head. "No, I knew it was time. The guy vaguely looked familiar and he had a company ID. Sorry, Russell," he genuinely added. "If I had just verified-"

Russell cut him off, "Yes, you're right. You should have verified who you let in the lab and gave free access to our equipment. You know better than that, David! The front desk also has protocol that should have prevented the guy from ever getting this far. And, believe me, I will follow up on that problem. But somehow," softening a little, "I think this guy would have found a way to get the photos."

"I've got Archie checking the video cameras to get a shot of the guy coming in. Maybe we can get an ID," Hodges offered.

Thinking back, Russell remembered, "Archie has already gone back through the last two weeks trying to identify anyone out of place, but came up with nothing." Russell stood up. Pointing his finger to intensify his idea, "Which means the imposter knew where the surveillance cameras were. This is someone who knows us, knows the lab. Hodges, you get with a sketch artist and get an ID on this guy."

"Right away," Hodges nodded and was out the door.

It had been several hours since Greg had fallen asleep, and as he started to stir, the pain began to crush down on him again. He got up on his forearms and attempted to shake the cobwebs from his head. The effort caused a wave of nausea to rush over him. Eyes squeezed shut, he stilled for a moment allowing it to pass. He pushed himself up in the uncomfortable bed and put his feet on the floor. How was it possible to feel worse than he had when he climbed onto the bed? He checked his watch. He shook his head in disbelief by the amount of time he had slept, winched and sighed. He couldn't wait any longer. The day shift would be at the lab now and he had to get in, grab the evidence, and get out before his shift started. He grabbed the few things he had scattered about on the table, including the pills. He dumped out three into his palm and dry swallowed them. Greg headed for the rental and began his drive back into Vegas.

Greg was glad he had forced himself to call Morgan when he first got into his room. At least the team knew he was okay. The last thing he wanted to do was cause them all to worry about him, but the way things had developed, he couldn't have avoided it. Russell would chew him out for leaving without a word, and he knew Nick would be pissed. But he couldn't worry about them now. Before the day was over, he would be heading east and his life as a CSI would be over. He still hadn't made up his mind where to go. It would be easy to get lost in New York, but maybe a smaller city would be better. It didn't matter; just so it was a long way from Vegas. It would be hard to go off the grid, but he really thought he could do it.

Morgan had unknowingly given Greg an important bit of information when he checked in with her earlier. She had told him that Brass had put out an APB for him. He needed to take care of that. He was glad he had ditched his car at the diner. But that also meant it had probably been spotted by now. Greg grabbed the disposable cell as he drove and punched in Brass' number.

The number was unfamiliar to Brass, but he answered on the second ring.

"Captain Brass," he answered.

"Jim, it's Greg." He didn't want to give Brass an opportunity to question him. "Listen, I'm on my way back into Vegas. Could you cancel the APB on me? I need to get back to my place and get some sleep before my shift this evening. I'd really like to do it without getting pulled over by one of your guys and hauled in. Can you help me out?"

Brass quickly recovered from the shock of hearing Greg's voice and the request to call off the APB. "Greg, are you okay?"

"Yeah, yeah. I'm just really exhausted and need some sleep. I'm really sorry about everything. I just, you know, I just needed to get away from it all for a while. I couldn't think straight."

"I understand. I'm glad you're safe. And I'll cancel the APB now. But do you think it's safe to go back to your house?" Something didn't sound right to Brass. Why had the new photos that had been taken inside Greg's home and inside the lab make him run, and now he's going back to those same two places?

"You know, it may have just been a misunderstanding. The more I think about it, the ones at my house may have been taken by the kid next door. I just didn't put it together."

Brass knew he was on to something. "You're saying you think a kid sent the pictures to you in the mail and then slipped more into your work vehicle at a crime scene?" he questioned. Greg was going to have to explain that statement.

"_Damn it_," Greg rebuked himself. "_too much information_!" He quickly tried to back pedal. "No, no. I didn't mean that. I think I got it figured out and everything's okay. I'm not in any kind of danger. Look, I know I'm not making sense, I'm tried…I just need some sleep." He paused to see if Brass bought any of it.

Brass considered what Greg had said. He did sound exhausted, but that didn't explain his bizarre behavior. He decided to play along, "Yeah, if you feel safe, go ahead and get some rest. But be sure to call Russell now and let him know that you're back and okay," he added.

"He's my next call. Thanks man," Greg ended the call and pounded his head with the phone. "Stupid!" He couldn't believe he had actually tried to blame the photos on the kid next door. He realized the bit about being exhausted was true. His body was struggling with the pain and it was taking its toll on him. It was beginning to cloud his judgment. There was too much at stake to go into this with anything less than a sharp mind. He began to search for any place that sold coffee.


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

Brass held his cell in his hand after ending the call with Greg. He replayed the conversation in his head. He would like to believe Greg meant what he said about calling Russell, but for some reason, he seriously doubted he would. Brass couldn't take the chance. He pushed the speed dial number assigned to Russell.

"Yeah, Jim," Russell answered.

"I just got a call from Greg. Said he was on his way back to Vegas."

"Was he okay? What did he say?" Russell asked, surprised that Greg had called Brass.

"He seemed okay. He said he was going to his house to catch up on some rest and then coming into the lab to work his shift tonight. I don't know, D. B., something just doesn't add up. He wasn't uncomfortable going back to his house knowing someone had been inside and him unaware of it. I questioned him and he mentioned some kid had been there taking pictures. Look, he said he would call you as soon as he hung up with me. I just wanted you to know, you know, if he doesn't." Brass couldn't really explain why he didn't trust Greg, but he didn't.

"Yeah, thanks, Jim. Thanks for calling. I'll be waiting to hear from him." Russell ended the call. He knew the feeling Brass was having. He was having the same feeling. He checked the time. It was still several hours before he was due at the lab. Russell felt confident this was a day he needed to show up early. He had a hunch Greg would be there early, too.

Greg arrived at the lab with no problem. He was grateful Brass has cancelled the APB as quickly as he had. Thankfully, the lab techs were all busy. A couple of them spoke to him, others asked if he was pulling a double. Greg had worked at one time or another with most of the lab techs and CSIs on the day shift and got along well with them. But today wasn't a day to catch up. He quickly replied he was following up on a lead and excused himself. Greg made his way to Evidence Storage. He glanced around before ducking inside.

"Hi Paul, how are your kids?" he spoke to the officer keeping the entrance log of the comings and goings of any officer or police scientist requesting to reexamine sealed evidence. He grabbed the log book and signed in.

"Hey Sanders," Paul answered with a smile. "Man, P.J.'s got his first JV game tonight. I can't wait to get out of here and over to the field to watch the team warm up."

Greg laughed, "No way, he can't be old enough to play JV." He thought a lot of Officer Douglas, and he tried to sound interested. Unfortunately, today his interests were on other things, including breaking the law.

The small talk had made entry into the evidence locker easier than Greg had expected. He hurriedly searched the most recently dated boxes until he located the one containing the evidence from Bradley's case. He glanced toward the door as he slipped his knife from his pocket. He positioned the knife to slit through the tape on the box.

"You break that seal and your job's gone."

Panic engulfed Greg as he stood and spun around to meet Russell's eyes piercing through him.

"What? What are you talking about? I'm just documenting some evidence," Greg recovered.

"That's not your case, Greg. You've got no business handling what's inside that box. And you _know_ that." Russell studied Greg as he struggled to concoct a rational excuse for unsealing the box and causing any evidence inside inadmissible in court.

"It's over. We know about your connection with Bradley." Russell hoped the knowledge would finally be a relief to Greg. But it wasn't.

Greg turned his back to Russell. He ran both hands through his hair and pulled violently. He sighed heavily and turned again to face Russell. He rubbed his forehead and started to speak, but then turned away again.

Russell eyed Greg carefully. "Greg, what"

Hands on his hips, Greg spun around again interrupting him. "What do you know?" he demanded.

Greg's reaction had caught Russell off guard. He had gone from distraught to furious in seconds. It alarmed him and he worried what Greg might do. "Settle down," Russell held his hands up to Greg. "We need to take this to my office."

Greg shouted as he pleaded with Russell, "I can't! Don't you understand that?!" Greg began to pace as he started to talk to himself. "Think! Think!"

Russell knew it was time to take control of this situation. He reached out to take hold of Greg's arm. Greg jerked away from him.

"Let go of me!" he shouted.

Officer Douglas called out to them. "Everything okay back there?"

Russell answered, "We're fine, Paul. We're almost ready to leave." He then looked directly into Greg's eyes. "This is not the place for this. Now calm down and come with me to my office. That's not a request," he said sternly.

When they were behind closed doors in Russell's office, Greg's demeanor changed again. He was quite, deep in thought. The change troubled Russell. He watched the young man in front of him trying to gauge what could possibly be causing him such turmoil.

"Greg," he started quietly. "You need help. And I'd love to help you, but you've got to trust me. You've got to talk to me. Whatever is going on, you were willing to go to prison for. I need some answers...now."

Greg seemed void of emotion. Without looking up, he began to tell Russell a story he had vowed to take to his grave. "It was never about a stalker, never about the pictures-that was all done to get my attention. The second envelope, the one we found in the Denali..." he paused.

Russell thought he would have to prompt Greg to get him talking again. Finally, Greg shifted in his seat and removed his wallet from his back jeans pocket.

"I removed one of the pictures and a note from the envelope before I left it in my locker. I knew you would find the pictures, but I...I hoped no one would ever know about this one." He had removed the folded photo and note from his wallet. He hesitated. Then, taking a deep breath, he tossed them both on the desk in front of Russell.

The photo unfolded enough to reveal the image as it landed on the desk. Russell could see it without picking it up. He slowly reached for the note and read silently. He glanced up at Greg. Although looking down at the floor, Greg could feel Russell's eyes on him and he quickly stood and walked away from the desk. There wasn't enough space in the office. He felt trapped. He closed his eyes and hung his head trying to regain some small amount of composure. The mere seconds it took Russell to view the photo seemed like minutes to Greg.

"Sit down, Greg," Russell coaxed him. Still avoiding eye contact, Greg obeyed.

"Someone is blackmailing you." Things begin to fall into place for Russell. "We've come this far, tell me the rest. How does it all fit together?"

Greg pressed his lips together, took a deep breath, and started at the beginning.


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

Greg dreaded opening up about what had happened. He silently wondered how many times he would have to repeat it. He inhaled a trembling breath and began.

"One night when I was in college, I had planned to meet some friends at a bar in San Francisco. I had gotten there early. I was sitting at the bar and this guy, Bradley, sat down and we started talking. He said he was trying to get into screen production. Said he was working on a project and thought I would be '_perfect'_ for it._" _Greg couldn't hide the hatred in his voice as he emphasized the word. "I wasn't interested, but let him talk anyway. When I realized he was talking about porn, I stopped him. Told him I wasn't his guy." Greg glanced up and locked eyes with Russell for the first time since they had been in Russell's office. He continued, "I stood up to leave and he grabbed my arm. I jerked away from him and these three guys came up from nowhere and blocked me in at the bar. Bradley pulled me back down and ordered drinks for all of us." Greg looked away as he remembered the night. "I don't know if he'd bribed the bartender into helping him or what, but when the drinks came, Bradley insisted we down them. I refused and got a gun jabbed into my back, so I drank it. Within a few seconds, my head was spinning. They'd drugged me."

Greg stood and walked away from Russell. Russell didn't press him. He realized Greg was struggling as he was forced to relive that night. Greg inhaled sharply as he resumed without turning around.

"When I came to, I was on the bed in the picture. I'm not going in to detail about the rest; you can figure it out." He shook his head as he continued, "When it was over, they threw me in a van, drove to some alley and beat the hell out of me."

"Bradley," Russell filled in. "That was when he put you in the hospital."

"No," Greg turned around to face Russell. "It wasn't Bradley, it was the other guys. He was making sure his goons didn't take it too far_. _Somehow Bradley dropped a credit card. It was enough to prove he was there."

"Bradley wouldn't have had trace on him. Why did he serve time for assault and the others didn't?" he questioned.

"He had knocked me around earlier and the police found my blood on a shirt in his apartment. And…I never told the police about the others…I never told them about anything except the beating. If I'd had a choice, I wouldn't have told them about that either."

Russell shot Greg a questioning look and waited for him to continue.

"The police found the credit card that belonged to Bradley when they found me. They arrested him, searched his place and found the shirt. While I was in the hospital, I got a visit from one of the other thugs, Russ Lucas. He threatened me. Said they would be watching me. It freaked me out for a while. But, as time passed, I just dismissed it as being an idle threat. He told me Bradley was going to take the heat for the beating, but not for forcing me to do the film. I never intended to report it anyway." A small laugh escaped Greg's lips. "How could I?" Stress was beginning to show in Greg's voice.

Russell began to fill in the pieces. "So, after Bradley was arrested for supplying drugs, he knew he had leverage with you. Apparently they had been watching you all of these years to know you had connections with LVPD. He knew he could use the film to blackmail you for a 'get out of jail free' card."

"Yeah, something like that." Greg concluded. It was almost a relief for the long kept secret to finally be exposed.

"What's wrong with your back," Russell changed the subject.

Irritated, Greg glared at him, "What!"

Russell had determined some time earlier that Greg was struggling with more than anxiety over the current events. "You're obviously in pain. I can tell by the way you're moving."

Greg's patience had just abandoned him. "Is that really what you think is most important right now?"

Russell didn't cave. "Well?" He wanted an answer.

Greg threw up his hands, "I don't know, a pulled muscle or something. Yeah, it hurts, but I'm trying to work through it. It's not going to kill me. You satisfied?"

Getting back to matters at hand, Russell continued, "We've identified who took the pictures in the lab."

"Who was it?" his interest intensified.

Russell checked a folder on his desk. "Facial recognition IDs him as Joseph Hubert Logins, currently living in Portland. Ring any bells?"

Greg sat back down trying not to reveal his pain. "Yeah. Joe Logins, he's one of them." Greg thought for a moment. "How did he get in the lab?"

"He posed as a repair tech for the company who services our DNA equipment. We didn't know until the real tech showed up."

"My god, you're kidding?" Greg shook his head. "I never saw him," he admitted.

"What did you tell Brass about a kid taking the pictures at your house?" Russell probed.

Realization hit Greg, "He called you. That's how you knew I was back in Vegas."

"Yes, and you should be thankful he did. If anyone else had caught you, you'd be in lock up now instead of answering to me."

Greg knew Russell was right. But what else could he do? And things weren't looking any better for him. His 24 hour deadline was ticking away and his chances of retrieving the evidence had gone. Greg looked defeated.

"Greg," Russell began, "we're going to work through this. I promise you, I'll do everything within my power to prevent these thugs from posting that film online."

Greg rubbed his hands over his face and sighed. "Thanks Russell, but we both know there's nothing you can do. There's nothing anyone can do."

Russell rose and walked over to Greg. He tried to reassure him, "Well, I for one, refuse to give up. Now, get your mind back in the game and let's figure this out."

Greg managed a small, but sincere, smile.

"Okay, then." Russell attempted to give Greg an encouraging pat on the shoulder but was surprised by the reaction.

"Ohhh," Greg winced and pulled away from Russell. Just the one touch seemed to bring all of the pain he'd been trying to keep at bay to the surface and he couldn't get his composure back as quickly as he'd hoped. Russell jerked his hand away and stepped back. Greg stood to try to walk off some of the pain and maybe avoid Russell's coming interrogation.

"I don't think a pat on the back should cause that kind of pain with a pulled muscles…Let me see your back."

Greg spun around as Russell approached him. The last thing he wanted was Russell examining him. "Come on, l'm okay, just jumpy." Russell stared at him, not backing down. Realizing they were at a standoff and the clock was ticking, Greg reluctantly eased his shirt slightly up and turned, allowing Russell to survey the damage Bradley's thugs had caused.

"Oh my God," Russell whispered. "You need to be in the ER."

Lowering his shirt, Greg faced him again, "Russell, you know we don't have time for that! I'm fine, we've just got to do something before they post that film…please." He pleaded.

Russell shook his head, "No, you're not fine. Some of the whelps are raw. Infection may set in. I'm getting a medic in here. When you're taken care of, then you can help with the case again."

Greg sat back down, giving in to Russell. He placed a call to the front desk for the medics, then sent a text to the team for all hands on deck.


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

The entire team had been called in early to work all the angles of Greg's case. As the medics were treating Greg, Nick arrived at the lab. He headed to Russell's office, but pulled up short when he caught sight of what was going on through the windows of the office. Greg was wincing as a couple of medics seemed to be working on his back. He picked up his pace. He wanted answers and Greg wasn't going to beg off this time. Nick sharply turned the corner and entered the door, again he stopped in his tracks. His eyes fell on Greg's back. It appeared raw; some areas oozing blood.

"My god," Nick whispered. "What the hell happened?" Greg was holding on to the edge of his chair in an attempt to fight the pain as the medics swabbed down, removed small fibers embedded in the wounds, and applied antiseptic to his injured back.

Russell looked up when he heard Nick. "Nick, I'm glad you got here so quickly. The guys behind this beat him with a belt."

Nick didn't acknowledge Russell. He went around in front of Greg and held out his forearm to him. "Hold on to me, it'll help with the pain."

Greg opened his squinted eyes and gave Nick a weak smile. With a sharp intake of labored breath, he grasped Nick's forearm and squeezed as the medic dug another embedded fiber from his back. Nick returned the gesture with half the pressure. During the course of the treatment, Nick grimaced a few times himself as Greg dug his fingers into his arm. But he remained quiet as he knew the interaction was helping Greg cope.

Finally the medics had done all they could do. Greg needed to be in the ER.

"Ok, Greg. That's all we can do for now. We've sprayed a coating of analgesic on your back. That should help with the pain. But you've already got infection setting up. You've got to get to the hospital soon."

"Yeah, I will. Thanks, guys." Greg tried to stand, but Nick stopped him.

"No, you need to rest a few minutes and catch your breath…and Greg, I promise you, man, we'll make them pay for this." Nick walked by Russell and said, "Come on, fill me in."

Before long the team was hard at work on Greg's case. They had determined the child who had been in Greg's home clicking off photos of him was a great grandson of the elderly lady who lived next door. The child's father was Eric Hilton. It had been Hilton who had secured the home for his grandmother in order to keep better track of Greg. Greg's connection with LPVD was one of the reasons Bradley decided to set up his drug supply operation in Vegas. He never knew when he would need to use their "ace in the hole."

Russell had an idea of how they could supply Greg with the demanded evidence. He had Sara review for the others what type of evidence had been collected which would incriminate Bradley. Along with prints lifted from the drug packaging recovered in the sting, there were also audio and video recordings and still photos. Copies of phone records and texts, and the recorded statements of the street dealers who had turned Bradley over to the authorities were also in evidence. Russell made the final decision these items would be used as bait. Of course, they couldn't use the actual items. So in order for their ruse to work, the team would have to make believable copies for Greg to deliver to the thugs. The recordings and still photos wouldn't be a problem, but duplicating the remaining evidence with original quality would prove a little more challenging. Greg had found a piece of paper in his pocket with the address of the location and time he was to deliver the evidence. He assumed Lucas had stuffed it there. The plan was to hand over only the still photos of drugs exchanging hands, and then demand the original film, all copies, and proof of the deletion of the copy prompted to be uploaded to the internet be exchanged for the bogus items. Russell and Brass had instructed him as to how the exchange would take place. Greg would be responsible for making sure the exchange took place according to their plan.

Greg arrived at the rendezvous point a couple of minutes early. He sat down on the park bench as instructed in the note. He was wearing a wire and Brass had undercover personnel spread throughout the park. Russell and Nick also sat in a concealed vehicle half a block away. They were able to monitor Greg's conversation via the wire and were also in constant contact with Brass.

"So, Sanders, you did show up." Lucas laughed. He walked up from behind Greg and sat down on the bench beside him. "I'm impressed. I didn't think you had the balls to pull it off." He laughed again.

Greg just stared at him.

"Hand it over," Lucas demanded.

Greg held up the package in his hand. "Sure. But the thing is, this is only a small portion of the evidence. Not all of it."

Lucas glared at him. "You stupid prick. What are you trying to pull?"

Greg glared back. "It's call security, dumb ass. You can have this package, but to get the rest of the evidence, we make an exchange."

Lucas flashed anger. "That wasn't the deal!"

Greg remained composed. "There wasn't a _deal._ It was blackmail, remember?" He sneered at Lucas. "Now, if you want the rest of the evidence, this is what's going to happen. You're going to get in touch with Hilton and Logins and they're going to get the original film Bradley shot, the copies, and the laptop with the file of it, and bring it to me. Then, we go pick up the remaining evidence and make the exchange."

An evil grin spread across Lucas' face. "Good try, Sanders. But that's not happening. You give me what we asked for or your naked ass is going viral."

Greg stood up, package in hand. "Fine. You don't get any of the evidence and Bradley does time for drug trafficking." He started walking away.

Lucas considered what Greg had said. He knew Bradley would find a way to kill him if he was the cause of this not working.

"Wait, Sanders." Standing, Lucas called after him. Greg turned around and faced him. "Okay. I'll go and get them."

"No way. You stay with me. I don't trust you."

Lucas was confused and irritated. "Well, what do you suggest, Sanders?"

"I already told you. Call them to bring the film and copies here."

"And I don't trust you. We go to them."

Greg thought for a moment. "Okay, where?"

Lucas laughed. "You think I'm going to tell you? What if you have a wire? I don't put it passed you to try to set us up."

Greg shook his head, "You stupid…do you honestly think I would wear a wire to prove something I'm trying to keep everyone from knowing? Where the hell did Bradley find you, anyway?"

Infuriated, Lucas drew back to deliver a swing. Greg came back at him, hatred filling his eyes.

"Go ahead, let's see how you do without your _boys_ backing you up." Greg was aching for some payback.

They stood posturing at one another, Greg determined not to give an inch.

Russell and Nick were listening and watching closely from half a block away. Aware of how stressed Greg had been, Russell was extremely pleased with how he was handling himself.

"Greg's good under pressure. I was a little concerned about him doing this," Russell admitted.

"Damned right, he's good under pressure," Nick boasted. He was also proud of Greg, but he had his hand on the door handle ready to jump in to aid him if needed.

Finally, Lucas stepped back and lowered his arm. "Okay, okay." He ran his hand through his hair. "I'll tell them to meet us at the hotel."

"No, not there," Greg opposed. He realized he had failed to tell Brass and Russell where he had meet Lucas earlier and the "_hotel" _would mean nothing to them.

Frustrated, Lucas ranted, "And why does that not suit you, Sanders? Did you not approve of the neighborhood or what?" he asked sarcastically.

Greg tried to cover his disapproval of the suggested meeting place. "Too far away. Just pick some place in Vegas. I don't want to drag this out any longer than necessary."

"If I stay with you, we meet them at the hotel." Lucas wouldn't give in.

Greg didn't want to push him too far and make him any more suspicious. He would just have to somehow get a message to Brass.

"Okay, the hotel from earlier today will work," Greg conceded, trying to give Brass what information he could without tipping Lucas off."

Brass was on the radio to Russell. "D.B., what hotel? Where's he talking about?"

"I don't have a clue, but we have to find out."

Nick looked puzzled, "Wait, Greg ditched his car. How did he go to a hotel earlier today if it wasn't in Vegas?"

Russell answered, "He got a rental. It's still at the lab. We can check the GPS." He was already dialing Fin back at the lab. Nick radioed Brass with their plan.

"Where's your car," Lucas asked.

"No, we take yours," Greg countered remembering he had ridden with Brass and gotten out of the car several blocks away to walk the remaining distance.

"What is it with you, Sanders? You disagree with everything?" Lucas scowled and started walking away. Greg didn't follow.

"Are you coming?" Lucas asked without looking back.

"Yeah, right behind you," he answered and fell in step behind Lucas.

Greg discreetly grabbed his cell from his pocket. He was glad he had retrieved his own cell from Russell while at the lab. Brass' number was programmed in and it would save precious time to pass along the location. He lagged a couple of feet behind Lucas as he quickly typed in the town, hotel name, and room number.

Lucas spun around and stopped walking, almost catching Greg texting, but he managed to slide the cell back in his pocket. He pushed what he hoped was the "send" button and let phone drop in his pocket.

Greg stopped walking also. "What?"

Lucas was irritated, "Get up here where I can see you. I don't trust you, either."

As Brass was talking with Nick, he received the text. "Okay, we got it. Greg got a text to me. We have to get moving if we're going to have people in place before they arrive."

Within the hour, all parties were either on location or in route to it. Brass had plain clothes officers in and around the hotel. Fin and Morgan had managed to rent the room next door. As Morgan kept watch, Fin had slipped into the rendezvous room. She quickly placed a small camera on the TV that blended in with the TV control buttons. If Greg was able to keep the wire from being discovered, they would have both eyes and ears in the room as the exchange took place. The ladies had just closed the door to their room when Lucas and Greg drove into the lot. Greg thought he caught a glimpse of Morgan, but couldn't be sure. He passed it off as wishful thinking. The team was top notch, but they would have had to leave Vegas within ten minutes of his text to Brass, if Brass even received the text. He had a feeling he was on his own. With the package of phony evidence in hand, Greg followed Lucas into the hotel room. Just as he was about to pass through the door, Fin stepped out of the room next door and nodded to Greg. The relief was evident in his expression and he briefly closed his eyes, breathing a silent prayer of thanks.

Greg and Lucas sat quietly in the room as they waited for Hilton and Logins to arrive. Greg was still anxious, but seeing Fin and knowing he had backup close by certainly eased his mind.

Lucas suddenly started laughing. "How's your back, Sanders?" He walked over to Greg causing him to stand as well. "Do you need a few more lashes?"

Greg was pissed now. "Sure, come on, try it," he taunted. Hilton was the muscle of the group and without him there, Greg knew he had a fairly good chance of taking Lucas down. And in his present state of mind, those odds were a lot better.

"Lay him out, Greg!" Nick shouted from his position in the car with Russell three businesses down the street from the hotel.

"He really doesn't need to instigate a fight right now, Nick," Russell replied trying to calm him. Nick didn't answer. Regardless of what Greg needed to do according to the law, Nick still hoped he punched the guy. Lucas deserved it and a lot more.

Greg and Lucas where still poised to pounce when Hilton and Logins drove up in the hotel's parking lot. Lucas backed down when the door opened and the men entered the room.

"Sorry to interrupt you two, but we've got the film," Logins grinned at them.

"Let me see," Greg said as he reached for the film reel and held it up to the light to verify it was the correct film. "What about the copies?"

Hilton shrugged out of the backpack he was carrying on his back. He pulled out five DVDs and passed them to Greg. Greg took them from his with a look of disbelief.

"You transferred it to DVDs? My god, you were determined to use this against me, weren't you," Greg sneered at him.

"Got to keep up with technology," Hilton answered. From across the room, Logins snickered.

"Give me the laptop," Greg demanded, holding his hand out to Logins. Logins complied. One by one, Greg inserted each DVD to confirm the content. After removing the last DVD, he sat in thought for a moment.

"You're sure this is all the copies you have," he questioned.

"Well, you see, Sanders, you're just going to have to trust us on that." Lucas smirked.

Greg glared at Lucas for a few seconds before continuing his search. He pulled up the document file, located the film, and hit 'delete'. Then he proceeded to comb through the laptop files seeking any other location the file could be hidden. He went through all steps to permanently remove all of the deleted files and completed a disk cleanup. When Greg was confident he had examined every possible location, he realized Lucas was right. Even when the team confiscated all of the men's laptops and verified there were no more existing files, it came down to having to take the men at their word. He was having a hard time doing that, but he had no other choice.

Looking up at Lucas, Greg stood and retrieved a small package from his pocket.

He held the package out to Lucas. "Here's the rest of your evidence."

Lucas grabbed the package from him and dumped the contents out on the bed. He raked through it, picking a few items up to examine them. He appeared to be satisfied.

Scooping up the items strewn about on the bed, Lucas grinned up at Greg.

"Well, Sanders, it's been a pleasure doing business with you. " All three men laughed as they headed for the door.

Greg stood still. It was time for Brass to take over. When they cleared the doorway and started toward their cars, Greg quickly slipped out the door and ducked into the door Fin held open for him. From inside, they could hear the arrests taking place. Although the men resisted, they were subdued by the plain clothed officers and no shots were fired. Greg closed his eyes and sighed with relief. It was over. He knew he would have to fight Russell over not pressing charges against Bradley's men for attempted blackmail, but in the end, he believed he could convince him. He smiled as he felt Morgan slip her arms around his waist. He pulled her close to him in a gentle hug. Fin couldn't keep the smile from her face as she walked passed them and out the door to join Brass.

Against his better judgment, Russell had agreed not to force Greg to press charges against Bradley and his men. Greg was glad things were getting back to normal. The past week had been hard on all of them. Russell had tried to get Greg to take a few days off work but he refused. He needed to work. It proved to be therapeutic for him. But now, on his day off, he was enjoying the time away. He was relaxing on his couch and doing some work on his laptop; paying bills, and catching up on e-mails. He was in the middle of answering an e-mail when he heard a knock on the door. He wrinkled his brow with wonder at the interruption. He slid the laptop onto the sofa and went to open the door.

"Tyler, what happened," Greg asked the ten year old boy who had blood running down his left leg from a severely skinned knee.

"I wiped out on my skateboard. Do you have a band-aid? Grandma Della will freak out if she sees all this blood," the young boy said with a grimace.

"Yeah, sure, come on in." Greg stepped out of the doorway allowing the boy inside. "Go on into the kitchen and I'll get the first aid kit."

Tyler thanked Greg and headed for the kitchen as Greg went into his bathroom for the kit. He reached for it underneath the sink counter and stopped when he noticed it wasn't there. "_That's odd," _he thought. The usually well-organized cabinet was in disarray. He made a mental note to check into that later as he rummaged through the cabinet contents until he spotted the first aid kit. He didn't want the kid bleeding all over his kitchen.

Tyler was sitting at the table dabbing at his bloodied knee with a wet paper towel when Greg entered the room. Greg kneeled down in front of him and started cleaning up his injury.

"You visiting your grandmother today alone or are your folks with you?" Greg asked. He needed to know if Hilton was next door or just dropped his kid off.

Tyler detected nothing unusual about the question. "I've been staying with her for a few days while they go on a trip. I wanted to go too but they wanted some _alone _time."

Greg couldn't resist a small smile. "Well, I guess parents do that sometimes." He felt a little more at ease. "Do you ever stay with your grandparents instead of your Grandma Della?" he probed.

"Sometimes," Tyler answered inattentively. "I don't like staying with them."

"Why not?"

"Always a lot of people there and everybody's always doing dope."

Greg stopped tending to Tyler's injuries and looked up at the young boy. "_Poor kid,"_ Greg thought. "Okay, that should take care of you. And be careful with that skateboard; you can really get yourself busted up with it," he warned.

Tyler smiled at Greg, "Thanks, Greg. And thanks for keeping me out of trouble with Grandma Della."

Greg gave a small laugh as he escorted Tyler back to the door. "You're welcome. See you around." Greg waved goodbye as Tyler jumped back on the board and headed off again. "How could Hilton have such a nice kid?" he said aloud as he closed the door. He put the first aid kit away, washed his hands and returned to the sofa to finish his e-mail reply. Greg started to sit down when he noticed a small smear on the leather of the sofa. He grabbed a tissue and wiped it away. _"Blood," _he thought. He inspected both of his own hands, but saw no trace. He was discarding the tissue when his phone rang. Nick needed to ask him a few questions from a recent case. They agreed to meet at the Starbuck's at the corner and Greg headed out the door.

Nick's questions only took a few minutes, but they hung out for thirty more minutes while they finished their coffee and talked. He told Nick about Tyler showing up at his door. Nick commented how unnerving it must be realizing Hilton could just show up next door. They said their goodbyes as Nick started back to work and Greg began the walk back to his home. When Greg entered his house, his eyes fell on the neglected laptop lying open on his sofa. He sat down to quickly complete his reply to the forgotten e-mail. As he typed, he heard a ding signifying a new e-mail had been sent to his inbox. He completed typing and hit "send." Greg clicked on the new e-mail and froze. The message read,

"_Just for you…" _

He stared at the link, but couldn't force himself to click on it. He was unaware how long he sat there staring at the screen. Finally, he clicked on the link and watched as the title popped up before him.

"_Hardcore Revenge on a CSI."_

Greg watched what unfolded before him for a couple of minutes. Then, he mechanically walked to his bedroom and calmly placed a few items in a backpack. He quietly added some essential toiletries to the bag. He went to his home safe and removed several thousand dollars in cash, a couple of insurance policies, and other papers he thought he may need, and placed them in the backpack along with the other items. He retrieved his phone charger, phone, and wallet from his kitchen counter. He carefully placed his laptop and charger in the bag and reached into the desk drawer beside his recliner for his gun. He paused for a few seconds in thought and then retrieved additional ammo from the drawer. He dropped the box of ammo into his pocket and tucked the gun in his belt at his back. Lastly, Greg reached inside his wallet and removed his CSI badge and tossed it on the desk. Without looking back, he slung the backpack over his shoulder and headed to his car.

Within the next ten minutes, the lights of Vegas were growing dimmer behind him. He glanced back at the city in the rearview mirror, and for the first time, Greg realized everything would be okay. He refused to let his life be destroyed by something he had no control over. Greg had enjoyed his life as a CSI in Vegas, and he would miss his friends. He wouldn't miss all of the crime and death. The more he thought about it, he realized it was time to move on. His heavy heart began to lighten and he drove into the desert on his way to a new life.

The End

Hope you enjoyed the story. Thanks for reading.


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